A Patch Of Pink
by rose.darling
Summary: Valentine's day fic.Trent is having it rough in New York city, but perhaps meeting and old teammate one day before Valentine's will change all that.


Yeah, so I wanted to do a special Valentine's Day fic. It started out as a DuncanxHeather that turned into a DuncanX Bridgette and finally a Trent XLindsay although I thought they were too sweet for this they fitted just well. The Duncan Bridgette idea still remains, it inspired a chaptered fic keep tuned in and I hope you enjoy.

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Trent scurried down the hectic frozen street. A nasty and humid February wind had taken on Manhattan. At the moment it was his most favorite place in the world. If he knew better, he would shove his right hand in the pocket of his leather jacket, instead of patiently waiting for his girlfriend to finish her heated rant.

"Yes, Denise," he said in a defeated voice. "I know tomorrow's Valentine's day. I'm sorry that I can't be there with you," he shivered. "It's not my fault that a snowstorm is coming up tonight. I promise I'll catch the first plane tomorrow. Okay-"he stared at the phone. She had just hung up on him. "Love you, too."

He hastily hid his hand in his pocket. He looked around him. The day before Valentine's Day was probably the only day when there were more men than women on Fifth Avenue. Sadly, he made no exception. Denise had been pretty direct about her Valentine's Day gift. If it were up to him he would have bought her the biggest and fluffiest teddy-bear he could find, but she requested something exquisite, which was an euphemism for expensive, from Tiffany's and Co. He sighed staring at the blue display.

The packed shop now seemed to him hotter than the sun itself. The gray displays were covered in a cold glow. He squeezed his eyes. He could hear the whispering. After his second hit, "Vanity over Love", he had become quite famous which meant that people got rather nervous around him and tended to avoid him. The fact that he was wearing his guitar didn't make it any better. The frustrating part was that he really did need some help since her found the jewelry quite tacky. The shop looked too professional for him with the young shops assistants dressed in dark suits.

He scanned the room looking for a friendly face. While all the other girls avoided his gaze, one greeted him with an encouraging smile. He couldn't believe it. She was tall, with big blue eyes and long blonde hair dressed in a pink suit. He smirked. She was a patch of color in a crowd of black.

"Lindsay?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Trent!" she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug.

"I can't believe this," he said.

Her colleagues stopped and disapproved her display of emotion, but she didn't seem to care.

"You work here?" he asked her.

"Aha," she nodded. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he answered. "How did you remember my name?"

"You're like uber famous," she answered. "How couldn't I?"

"Figures," he sighed. "Hey, since you work here, I was wondering if maybe you could help me."

"Sure," she enthusiastically said. "Customers tend to avoid me. Don't know why, but this is great!"

"I'm looking for a gift for my girlfriend."

"Is it your year anniversary?" she asked.

"No," he answered.

"Is it her birthday?" her eyebrows furrowed.

"Um, no."

"It's not Christmas, is it? Because I totally didn't buy myself a gift!" she had an alarmed look.

"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day, Lindsay," he explained.

"Oh, right," she scratched the back of her head. "Silly me."

He smiled: same old Lindsay.

"I was going to take you directly to the diamond's section, but since it's not anything of like spiritual importance, let's take a look at the pearls, shall we?"

"Hey, you're the expert," he said.

"Yay!" she clapped her hands.

He couldn't help, but smile. Meeting Lindsay for the second time made his head feel lighter. He had almost forgotten how entrancing her bubbly personality could be and how contagious her enthusiasm was. She was adorable in her unawareness. It didn't surprise him to find her sporting her personal style in such and uptight place like that.

"So what do you think?"

"Huh?" he snapped. He had been too distracted by her delicious coconut scent.

"Trent, you have to concentrate!" she insisted. "Picking out a gift is like really hard and important!"

"Okay," he nodded amused by her seriousness.

"Good," she devilishly smirked. "I can show you my personal favorite."

She took him to a display with small pieces. "There," she pointed to a single pink pearl medallion on a thin golden necklace. "Isn't it amazing?"

"Yeah," he answered. He wasn't sure if Denise would like it. She usually wore bigger things that caught everyone's attention.

"Oh, please buy this one! Pretty please!" Lindsay pleadingly looked at him as if he were buying it for her.

"Okay, okay," no person in their right mind could ever refuse Lindsay's puppy dog eyes.

"Yay!" she cheered. "Let me just put this in a silky blue box."

He smiled. He did well. He tried calling Denise again, but she had turned off her phone. He sighed. She probably had one of her many tantrums and threw it in the fish tank. He walked up to the counter where Lindsay was done wrapping. He paid for the necklace.

"It was nice seeing you," he said.

"You too," she said. "You've changed…you look more…handsome," she blushed.

He smirked. "I'd invite you to a coffee, but you're working…"

"I can come1" she happily said.

"You can?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Sure," she answered. "It's already dark and daddy's friend, the sweet man who owns this shop, said that I can leave any time!"

"Okay, then," he said.

"Just let me grab my coat," she went in the back.

The other girls glared at her with jealousy. Trent apologetically smiled at them.

"Ready," he heard her chipper voice.

She wore a cream coloured coat and warm cashmere scarf around her neck.

They went out in the antagonizing cold. Fifth Avenue had always been packed with billboards and different colours. Most of the shop displays had a pink glow to them. They walked down a few streets with Lindsay occasionally looking at the shops. She had her own way of walking. She looked so gracious as if she were floating. They entered the café around the corner. The lights were dim and the atmosphere was welcoming. They found a round table by the window. There was a pleasant murmur covering the jazz music in the background.

"What can I get you?" the waiter asked.

"An espresso for me," Trent said. "And," he looked at Lindsay.

"Hm, I knew what I wanted," she rubbed her chin. "But then I forgot. Why don't you order for me, Trent?"

"Me?" he bit his lower lip. "A latte please?"

The grim waiter left them.

"So," he looked at her. "Have you kept in touch with anyone?"

Lindsay had a confused look. "No, how could I do that? I did that with Tyler on the show, but we were like dating so it was normal to keep a touch."

He shook his head. "I meant have you spoken with someone from the show?"

"Well," she rubbed her chin. "Cory calls me sometimes. We found out we were from the same town."

"You're not dating Cody, are you?" he asked.

"No," she laughed. "He has a lot of girlfriends! I can't even remember their names!"

"Good," he sighed.

"Oh, and Heather comes from time to time to my shop!" she enthusiastically said.

"Didn't you hate her?" Trent asked.

"No," she shook her head. "My stepmom says that hate is the nastiest word there is; worse than the f word," she whispered. "And she's like really smart. She's studying psychology."

The waiter brought their cups of coffee.

"How old is your stepmom, if you don't mind me asking," he took a sip of his espresso.

"Twenty," she answered. "Trent! This is exactly what I wanted!" she cried. "Can you like read minds or something?"

He laughed. "Maybe."

She blushed.

"So, um, are you and Tyler still dating?" he warily asked.

"Tyler?" she looked down at her cup. "No. I haven't heard from him since the season finale. I thought we had something special…"

"You are special, Lindsay," he looked at her.

"Trent!" she gasped looking outside. "It's snowing!"

"You're right" he also looked.

"We should totally hit the skating rink!" she cried.

"I don't know if that's a good idea…"

"C'mon!" she grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him outside.

A taxi instantaneously stopped in front of them and they raced off to Central Park. The skating rink was fully illuminated. The shriek of children filled the air.

"C'mon, Trent!" she cried from the center of the rink.

Trent could barely stay on his feet.

"What are you doing?" she walked up to him.

"It's useless. I'm no good," he sighed.

"Let me help you," she took his hand.

He shyly got up as they slowly glided on the frozen surface. He calmed down now that she was guiding him and was actually enjoying the ride.

"You're doing it!" she cheered.

"I am!" he also cried. "Woo-hoo!"

She let him go, but he slipped and fell flat on his face.

"Oh my God! Are you alright?" she helped him up. "Let's sit," she took him to the nearest bench.

"So much for doing it," he grumbled.

"Don't worry. You were wonderful," she reassuringly smiled.

"Thanks to you. Hey," he shyly said. 'You look beautiful in the winter lights."

"Thanks," she twirled a strand of hair on her finger.

"Are you…" he hesitantly said. "Are you seeing someone right now?"

"No," she shook her head. "I just have my baby."

"Your baby?!"

"Yeah, he's the sweetest thing! Wanna see him?" she asked.

"I don't know…" he was rather curious.

"Oh, come on. I think we've had enough skating for one night."

"Fine," he smiled.

Half an hour later, they were back at her place. She was currently living in a suite at the Hilton.

"Come in," she opened the door. "A good friend owns this place."

He entered the room. Upon clapping her hands, it lit up and the fireplace started working.

"Missy!" she called. "Come here, boy!"

From around the corner, a Chihuahua baring a pink ribbon rushed to Lindsay's hands.

"That's a good boy, Missy! Good boy!" she giggled picking him up.

Trent sighed. Leave to Lindsay to name a dog her baby.

"Missy, this is Trent."

"Isn't Missy a girl's name?" he patted the dog's head.

"I know," she put him down. "I thought he was a girl at first."

He laughed.

"Do you want some orange juice?" she asked.

"Sure," he answered.

She came back with two glasses and they sat by the fireplace.

"Wow, your hands are so cold," she took one hand in hers. "Here, let me warm them up."

She started massaging it.

"Well, you're warm," he said.

"I don't wear fingerless gloves," she brought it up and rested it on her rosy cheek. She looked at him with her innocent blue eyes. They locked gazes.

"Well…" he uneasily said. "It's part of my badass look."

"Shh," she placed a finger to her lips. "Missy might hear you."

"Right," he nodded.

"So, hm…" she scratched her head. "Tell my about your girlfriend."

"Denise?" he frowned. "There's not much to say…"

"How did you two meet?"

"She's a model. We met at one of her presentations.'

"And you instantly fell in love with her?"

"No. It's funny. She kept showing up where I was."

"I see," she nodded. "I guess she's pretty."

"Yeah," he answered.

"You must love her."

"I…" his words were left hanging. She waited for his answer. "So how did you end up living in New York?"

"It's a long story," she rolled her eyes. "Do you really wanna hear it?"

"More than anything," he smiled.

The next morning found them sleeping by the fireplace. Trent got up and went in the other room. He halfheartedly called his agent who told him that no flights were available. Denise wasn't very pleased.

"You better get me something nice if you want me to forgive you!" she testily said.

"Know what, Denise?" he said. "I don't think I'm coming back," he shut his phone.

"Trent-"

He sighed. He didn't like doing it on Valentine's Day, but he had to break up with her. He went back to Lindsay. He took out a piece of paper and wrote: Dinner at seven. He placed the silky blue box next to it.


End file.
